


stillwater

by silkbonnet



Category: Batwoman (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Ryan copes, angelique is there, their conversation is not very productive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29530998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkbonnet/pseuds/silkbonnet
Summary: angelique shows up and ryan re-evaluates some things.orthe one where mary doesn’t pepper spray ryan’s ex.
Relationships: Ryan Wilder & Mary Hamilton, Ryan Wilder/Angelique Martin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	stillwater

**Author's Note:**

> caught up with batwoman and yeah they got me. childhood friends to lovers? in gay? im there. 
> 
> also, ryan wilder man. she’s little, but she’s big.

.

They fall into bed and it feels like an inevitability.

They’ve called a truce but the conversation is stilted, awkward. This is the first time they’ve seen each other in years and Ryan is looking anywhere but directly at Angelique, because she thought she could do this; see her again and be unaffected, but that was a pipe dream. There’s too much sullied history between them.

_Their first date was supposed to be at Vesuvio, the fanciest restaurant on the Eastside. Angelique insisted on paying for everything, saved up for months, even though Ryan would have been okay with just hanging out. Angelique pretended to be all causal about it, but then she wouldn’t stop going on about how it had to be special. On the actual day, they’d been turned away for lack of reservations, because teenaged ignorance had them assuming they could just walk in and get a table. Angelique had been ready to battle it out with the host until Ryan told her to let it go, took her hand and led them out. They’d used the money to grab take-out and milkshakes then parked in the lot behind the high-school. Climbing on the roof of Angelique’s foster dad’s truck they split the fries, Angelique making a face when Ryan dipped hers in the milkshake, but doing the same when she thought Ryan wasn’t looking. They’d stayed out way past curfew, watching the sky until dusk bled into dawn, red ribbons of sunlight ushering in a new day._

Ryan lets the silence linger, tracking Angelique out the side of her eye; the way she still fidgets with her rings, the way her eyes narrow as she subtly tries to check out the bar, how she’s watching Ryan too.

Ryan offers her a drink and there’s something about the way Angelique says, “so you work here now?” that rubs Ryan the wrong way but she could be reading into it, so she just pours them a couple shots of tequila, grabs some beers and slides them over.

The drinks help them warm up to each other and they fall into an easy rhythm, light conversation. There’s a lot to catch up on and neither one of them is mentioning the betrayal—the fact that Angelique almost fucked up Ryan’s life for good but Ryan knows they’ll have to talk about it eventually; she’s got a lot to say and she plans on making Angelique listen, but just for a moment, Ryan wants to pretend they’re regular people.

_Ryan was late for first period, having slept through her alarm, because Angelique made them stay up right until midnight so she could be the first to wish Ryan happy birthday. It was sweet, but she paid for it by having to run to class. Opening her locker was more annoying than usual, the old lock the school provided sticking even when she tugged on it. When she finally got her locker open, a small red balloon was taped to inside the door. There was also a mess of confetti everywhere and a red velvet cupcake, smushed but still edible, sitting on top of her textbooks under a plain card signed, ‘A’._

_“You like it?” Angelique said coming up behind Ryan. She was smiling, smug but shy, and Ryan wanted to kiss her. She didn’t though, because there were still people wandering the halls, so she just pulled Angelique in for a hug, held on tight and whispered thank you into her ear_.

It’s hard, but also somehow easier than Ryan expected, talking to Angelique like there isn’t all this muddled history between them. Angelique launches into one of her long stories, starts gesturing and embellishing—the tale is one Ryan already knows, and every time Angelique tells it, the security guard becomes bigger and meaner.

Ryan calls her out on it but Angelique doesn’t miss a beat.

“You tell it then,” she says, “since you know it so well.”

Ryan does know it, but she knows this too, the fond smile, the teasing. It used to work when they were kids, but she sees through it now. She picks up where Angelique leaves off anyway, and they both tell it then, interrupting each other with quips of, ‘do you remember?’ and ‘that’s not how it happened.’ Eventually, they stop trying to make sense and start telling the most exaggerated version of the story they can think up. Every time Angelique laughs, Ryan looks away, pretending she hasn’t missed the sound.

_Ryan was going too fast, her braids whipping behind her, the bun she wrapped it in long since fallen away. She could hear the click of the hair charms as she kicked out a foot to stop the roller skates._

_“I win,” she said when Angelique finally caught up._

_“A million tries later,” Angelique said, “let’s go again.” She distracted Ryanwith a kiss, then started racing ahead, giving herself a head start._

_Ryan rushed to catch up. “You’re only as good as your teacher, right? Also, you’re a cheater!”_

_Angelique just laughed, skating backwards, showing off._

They keep chatting about nothing in particular and when there’s a lull in the conversation Ryan asks Angelique about her plans for the night. Ryan expects a brush off. Instead, Angelique tells her how she was out on a job—code for one of her hustles—when she ran into Alice and some suit. They got into it, that’s reason for the bruise on her jaw, Angelique explains, but Ryan doesn’t respond.It’s too much; the memories, the fight she had earlier with that kidnapping ass bitch, and now this: sitting across from Angelique and pretending they’re just old friends.

Angelique is still going on about Alice and the suit, but Ryan’s not really listening. Something cold and furious tightened around Ryan’s heart when Angelique said Alice’s name and even as she tried not to let the pure hatred show on her face, something must have changed anyway, because Angelique is giving her that careful, searching look. Ryan hates it. Has hated it since they were kids because Angelique always looks that way before she says something Ryan doesn’t want to hear.

They haven’t had a real conversation in almost two years—not for lack of trying on Angelique’s part, but they should maybe (definitely) have some ground rules for how they’re going to navigate this. Eventually. Because Ryan knows better now.

She isn’t going to let herself get caught up in Angelique’s... everything. 

Angelique is still looking at her in that unblinking way she has, seemingly sincere, but Ryan can never quite tell with her.

_‘Your little slippery girlfriend_ ’, that’s how Ryan’s mom used to describe Angelique and it’s no surprise that they never quite got along.

Right now though, Angelique has a hand around Ryan’s wrist, gentle, and Ryan hadn’t realized she’d tensed up but annoyingly, it works to calm her. Angelique’s palm is warm and a little bit sweaty but she isn’t letting go, just running her thumb across Ryan’s wrist like she used to before, when Ryan would get too lost in her own head.

It’s confusing but familiar, a little bit like their entire relationship, really, and Ryan doesn’t realize she’s started to lean away until Angelique pulls her back with a tug of her hand.

‘Bad day?” is all she says, not letting go of Ryan’s hand.

Ryan stares at where they’re connected, unmoving. She doesn’t want to talk, but Angelique nudges her and it just comes out.

“The worst day.”

Angelique bites her lip, contemplating. “Maybe I should go? I mean, if you want to be alone—“

Ryan doesn’t let her finish, just surges forward and kisses her.

She misses at first, gets only her bottom lip and pulls away but Angelique leans in and kisses Ryan back, smiling against her lips when Ryan grabs the collar of her jacket, sinking her fingers into soft leather.

Angelique puts her arms around Ryan’s waist, pulling her up from the barstool and onto her lap, and Ryan goes easily, sighing at the feel of Angelique’s lips on her neck, her shoulder, the spot above her heart.

She knows what they’re doing is beyond stupid, knows that they’re using sex to bypass their issues, knows that Angelique is likely to leave the second they stop doing whatever this is, but since Ryan’s already kissing her, she can at least admit to herself that she’s missed her. Not the fighting or the schemes, but the good parts, the way Angelique’s hands feel on her body, the way she feels under her right now. They might have a ways to go before Ryan feels comfortable discussing everything, but this, this hasn’t changed.

They’ve known each other’s bodies since forever, were each other’s firsts and there was a time Ryan thought Angelique would be her last but any dreams of forever were dashed the second Angelique walked out on her, leaving her to take the fall for a crime she didn’t commit.

And it’s not like Ryan’s forgotten that, it’s that lately the echos of those years don’t weigh her down; she’s mostly made peace with the fact that she can’t get that time back and it took a while but she’s actually got a paying job (with insurance) a home and the Bat gig. Life is good. That doesn’t mean the bullshit isn’t always in the back of her mind, it is. But it’s faded some, these days. The sting is less raw. It’s complicated, but separating the Angelique in front of her from the one that hung her out to dry isn’t all that difficult; what they’re doing feels good, simple.

It’s not like Ryan‘s been a nun. She isn’t lacking for companionship but her van isn’t exactly the best place for hookups and far as going out, between training and trying to get used to the upheaval of her new life, she hasn’t had the time to connect with anyone. Not on a deeper level, anyway.

That, along with the way Angelique is looking at her right now, fond, flushed, and a little reverential, is the reason Ryan doesn’t kick her out.

“We should talk,” Angelique says, even as she pulls Ryan down for another kiss, licking into her mouth and sliding warm hands under Ryan’s crop top. The taste of clover cigarettes on her tongue is familiar, and it makes something in Ryan ache.

Ryan doesn’t want to talk. She kisses Angelique again, wraps her hands around her neck, then pulls back to make sure Angelique wants this too. She understands the way Angelique shrugs off her jacket as an answer and helps her take it off.

It’s easy, the way they still fit together, even after everything.

Angelique’s hands are at the band of Ryan’s jeans, picking at the button. Ryan shuffles backwards to give her better access but then remembers that she’s still technically at work.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she says, and Angelique raises an eyebrow, her expression complicated when Ryan tells her she lives in the loft above.

She doesn’t dwell on that too much because the minute they’re inside, Angelique’s got her pressed up against the wall, tugging off her top and kissing her way down Ryan’s chest.

It takes a bit of adjusting, but they make it work, Angelique slipping a hand between them and swallowing the noises Ryan makes with hard kisses. Ryan doesn’t think of anything else, she just savours the way Angelique’s hips cant up against hers, the way her mouth feels on her breasts, the sounds she makes when Ryan finally gets her hands on her.

In the end, they never make it to the bedroom. Somewhere between the couch and the kitchen, Angelique asks if they should, but Ryan hesitates.

She and Angelique have always been excellent at the physicial, but in the darkness, with traces of Ryan’s lipstick on Angelique’s chest, and the gentle way she’s playing with her hair, it makes this real, suddenly, and Ryan doesn’t want any more remembrances.

She hasn’t even slept in her room yet,(Mary left three sets of sheets on her bed; presumptuous but sweet, as is her way) and she doesn’t want Angelique there, not yet. Maybe not ever. Sex is one thing, but fully inviting Angelique into her life again is a lot, and Ryan plans to enjoy tonight but she wants to maintain distance. Hard, with Angelique nipping at her jaw and doing that thing with her hands, but Ryan needs to hold up an air of separation and keeping Angelique out of her room is the easiest way to do that. She tampers down the annoyingly logical thought that the best way to keep Angelique away would have been to part ways after calling a truce, because she’s done with hard truths for the night. Their relationship doesn’t make sense, not if taken at face value but Angelique just has this thing over Ryan.m that has her willing to give her the benefit of the doubt every time. It wasn’t always like that, but as the years went on Ryan just kept losing people and Angelique became her only constant. And even now, with all that she’s done, it’s hard to shake the habit.

“Ryan?” Angelique tucks a strand of hair behind her hair, eyes questioning. “Is this—we could stop if—“

“I don’t want to stop.” Ryan kisses her, let’s herself sink into this moment, pushes everything else away.

Angelique seems to understand, because she doesn’t ask again, justhelps Ryan out of her boy shorts and crawls down her body.

There’s no more talking then, not for a while and when Angelique comes up for a kiss, Ryan tastes herself on her lips and flips them, trying not to memorize the way Angelique shivers when she nips at her collar, or the way Angelique finds her left hand and holds it, tightening her grip when she comes.

After, when they’re sated and cooling off, Angelique wraps Ryan in her arms, throws a leg across her thighs. Ryan feels suffocated. Not physically, but the gentle kisses Angelique presses on her shoulder and tender way she’s tracing shapes on her stomach gives Ryan whiplash.

She stands, shaking Angelique off quickly and without force but Angelique frowns, hurt.Then she blinks and her face smooths out.

“Should I leave?” she asks. Her voice is small and uncertain and Ryan doesn’t know.

“You can stay on the couch. I’ll grab you a blanket,” is Ryan’s answer as she all but runs to her room.

She shuts the door behind her and takes a moment, chest heaving as she tries not to cry. Angelique is the one in the wrong, yet Ryan feels guilty. It’s not like they didn’t both know exactly what they were getting into, but somehow, Ryan feels like the asshole here.

It’s always been that way with Angelique, something about her makes Ryan question herself, every time.

She should ask her to leave, tell her this was a one time thing and not to call or text or reach out in any way. It’s what Angelique deserves because now that the frantic want has been alleviated, Ryan’s head is clearing and that old pain is back; She knows she’s deluded herself. She isn’t past this, not even a little and she wasn’t ready to start anything up with Angelique again. Ryan doesn’t regret sleeping with her but she definitely let nostalgic emotions send her off kilter. Ryan’s entire being aches with indecision; she hates Angelique with her head and loves her with her heart and as she lets the clouded emotions wash over her, she knows two things for sure: nothing is going to be resolved tonight and she doesn’t want Angelique to leave. Not yet.

It’s a lot, and Ryan blinks back tears, pissed that she’s still this affected after only a few hours in Angelique’s presence. 

It takes a while for her to finally compose herself and she wipes at her eyes with her thumbs, pulling on a robe and digging into her suitcase for a shirt she can give to Angelique. She finds one of Angelique’s own, a ratty old Gotham Gophers shirt Ryan stole when they broke up that she’s never been able to make herself throw out. Giving it to Angelique will further complicate whatever this is, Ryan knows. She doesn’t care. It’s late and she’s been over this day for hours. She just wants to sleep.

Picking up the shirt and one of the blankets on her bed(another gift of Mary’s) she checks her face quickly in the wall mirror, satisfied that she doesn’t look like she’s just had a minor breakdown and walks back into the living room.

Angelique immediately looks up from where she’s staring down at her hands, something like guilt flashing across her face.

Ryan ignores it, just holds out the blanket out to her, and points out where the bathroom is.

Angelique nods when’s she’s done talking, looking between Ryan and her old shirt. Her movements are jerky and when she takes the blanket from Ryan, she doesn’t move away.

“I’m sorry,” Angelique says. She sounds over-rehearsed and Ryan can’t tell if she prefers this or the fast and flat way Angelique usually apologizes.

“Don’t,” Ryan says, taking a step back when Angelique reaches out a hand. She drops it, folding it into a fist. 

Ryan’s really fucking tired and she doesn’t think Angelique is actually trying to have it out right now; more like she’s testing the waters, seeing how angry Ryan is, if they can move on quickly, or if she’s going to drag it out.

She can just tell, by the way Angelique is waiting; a ridge between her eyebrows, anxiety cloaked as indifference coming off her in waves. It’s infuriating, Ryan thinks. She deserves to drag it out, should be able to use ‘I served 18 months for you’ as her go to excuse for everything going forward because those weren’t the worst months of her life, but they were close and Angelique did nothing to help her get out of it.

“Can I just explain?” Angelique tries.

“I hope you’re joking.” Ryan has to hand it to her, really, for being so bold. It’s Ryan’s life that got derailed and yet somehow Angelique is making it about her. Selfish, but that’s not news.

Angelique frowns. “I’m just trying to make this right.”

“It’s been literal years.” Ryan takes a step forward, moving into her space. “But yeah, okay. Fix it. Tell me how you’re going to give me back those years. I’m listening.”

“That’s not—I tried to reach out but you ignored my calls.” It’s a shit excuse and the chastened look on Angelique’s face says she knows it.

Ryan just stares at her blankly. “Don’t put this on me. The city’s not that big, you could have found me if really you wanted to.”

Ryan’s expecting more arguing because Angelique never backs down. Even when she’s in the wrong. Especially then. But she doesn’t seem to have an answer, she just deflates.

The silence that comes after is tense, but neither of them looks away.

“I know you hate me, Ryan. And I get it, what I did was the worst. But I’m sorry. So sorry.” Angelique hugs the blanket to her chest. “I want to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Ryan surprises both of them by saying. She didn’t mean to, but it’s the truth. She should hate Angelique; after being deserted and taking the fall and public defenders that didn’t care; after being sentenced without reason and lumpy beds in dark rooms shared with four other women; after freezing nights in her car and everything else that stemmed from that one night Angelique left her, Ryan should hate her. Should tell her all the ways she ruined her life and exactly the kind of person she think she is, use what she knows about Angelique to hurt her back. It wouldn’t be hard. A lifetime of friendship means even now, she knows all of Angelique’s worst bits but revenge isn’t Ryan’s thing.

‘ _Too kind for your own good, especially with that Martin girl. You’ve got blinders on with that one._ ” Another thing her mom used to say about about Angelique.

It makes Ryan miss her, makes her wish for before, when her mother was alive and Angelique was still someone she could count on and life didn’t feel like a chore. She walks around Angelique to take a seat on the couch, trembling all the while.

“It’s in your eyes every time you look at me,” Angelique takes a seat next to her, mindful to leave some distance, at least.

“I don’t hate you, stop saying that.” Ryan’s voice comes out cracked and she look away.

“Ryan—“

“Shut up.” Ryan has to keep talking because if they’re doing this, then Angelique’s actually going to listen for once. “I hate what you did, and I hate that you let me go through all that shit without so much as a check in. And that even when I got out, you were no where to be found. I hate that when I saw you, my first thought wasn’t to kick you out because even after all the bullshit, I don’t hate you. I hate that.”

“I’m—“

“Sorry. I know, you said that already. But that doesn’t actually help me at all.”

“I know,” Angelique’s face is splotchy, and her voice is heavy. Ryan doesn’t let herself be affected by it. 

“You can’t help me in any way that matters.” Ryan’s exhausted. “Even this truce and you coming around, it’s pointless. I thought...” she shakes her head, pushing away thoughts of reconciliation and forgiveness because she really did think it would be that easy, but now she sees how idealistically juvenile that was. “There’s nothing you can say or do for me. I don’t think there ever was. You’re exactly the person everyone said you were.”

That isn’t really fair, but she’s hurting and Angelique started this. Ryan was happy to let them keep pretending, to let her sleep on the couch and leave in the morning, like a regular one night stand. But Angelique wouldn’t let it go and now here they are.

Angelique keeps blinking fast; her nose is red and her chest is heaving. Ryan can count the times she’s seen Angelique cry on one hand.

The first time was in the 6th grade when Trevor Adler told the entire class that Angelique’s mom gave her away because she knew Angelique would grow up stupid. She’d punched him in the lip, but during lunch, Ryan found her crying in the library. The second time was after their first big fight. Ryan doesn’t even remember what it was about, just that they both said some stuff and then she’d walked home without her. They’d ignored each other for two weeks, until Angelique showed up one night at Ryan’s foster home, very drunk and sporting a sprained wrist. She wouldn’t tell Ryan what happened and even now, she doesn’t know the full story. The last time was the worst, the night Angelique found out her dad died. She’d been pulled out of class, and had come back with a blank face, going silent for the rest of the day. She’d slept over, and they’d gone to bed early but when Ryan woke up for a glass of water, she’d found Angelique sitting up in bed, silently crying.

She’s doing that now, wiping at her face even though it isn’t really helping.

“I know I’m fucked up, okay?” Angelique is speaking so quietly, Ryan has to strain to hear. “You were always so much better than I deserved and—“

“Don’t, Angelique.” Ryan doesn’t want this, either. Doesn’t want to hear Angelique talk down on herself or tell her all the reasons she should have stuck around because that’s not going to change anything and empty words don’t help anyone.

“Ryan, we can’t just leave it like this.” Angelique’s voice is fraying at the edges and, she’s got the blanket in a vice grip, her fingers almost white at the tips.

“Do you not get what you’re doing right now? I’m the one this happened to. Me. You ruined my life and now you say you want to apologize but you’re making this about you.” Ryan stands, tightening her robe around herself.

“I just want to fix things.”

“Then you should leave. Or stay. I don’t care anymore,” Ryan tries to steady her voice but her words still come out like a sob. “This whole thing was a mistake.”

“ _Ryan_.”

“Goodnight, Angelique.”

She’s walks away before Angelique can say anything else, brushing past her and shutting her door.

/

It takes hours and hours for Ryan to fall asleep.

She’s not used to the silence, having slept in her van for the better part of a year, she keeps waiting for the rumble of a train or some cars to pass by. Anything but hollow silence.

The Hold Up is in midtown, nice enough to leave your door unlocked, but not nice enough to take walks at night. Angelique should be safe though, she if leaves right now. She knows how to take care of herself but Ryan hasn’t heard anything from the living room. Angelique might still be out there.

Ryan meant it when she said she didn’t care about what Angelique did, but she can’t stop thinking about their conversation. The cyclical nature of their relationship means that this night was destined downhill from the moment Angelique stepped into the bar.

It wasn’t all bad, though. For a moment, before it all went to shit, Ryan remembered what it felt like to have a person in her corner. Mary’s nice but they don’t have that shared history, and sometimes Ryan just wants to talk to someone who already gets it, doesn’t always want to explain herself.

It takes a while but eventually Ryan worries herself to sleep.

/

“So,” Mary says when Ryan comes out of the bathroom. “I almost pepper sprayed some chick tonight. She was coming out of our apartment? Nose ring, curly hair?”

Ryan just shrugs. There’s a headache starting behind her eyes, like the ones she gets after a bad hangover.

Mary stops pouring her coffee and squints at her. “Hey, are you okay? Because you look kinda rough. Wait. Did she do something? Should I have pepper sprayed her? Because she left like 15 minutes ago, I’m sure I could catch her and—“

“Mary, it’s fine. Nothing happened.”

Mary hands Ryan the cup she’s just poured. “Kinda feels like something did, though. Your eyes are all puffy.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says dryly, narrowing her eyes at reflection in the microwave.

“Seriously, who was that? Because she was pretty rude and if she’s going to be a regular hookup—“

“That was Angelique.”

Mary’s eyes widen. “Like your ex? That Angelique?”

“The very one.” Tears prick at Ryan’s eyes and she looks down to avoid Mary catching on.

“Okay. Whatever she did, I definitely need to pepper spray her because you’re crying into your coffee and that’s not okay.”

Ryan sniffles and Mary comes around the counter to hug her.

“What happened? You can tell me, if you’re up to it. “

Ryan leans into the hug, considering her options. She can ruminate or she can talk to a person who actually cares and maybe get some catharsis.

“It’s long and honestly really ridiculous,” Ryan warns. 

Mary waves her off. “Please. I just had to escape a date because he wouldn’t stop referencing himself in the third person.”

Ryan laughs weakly. “Seriously?”

“Right? Plus he stuck me with the bill.”

“Oh, so he was pretentious and an asshole.”

“Literally.” Mary huffs out a quiet laugh and links their arms. “C’mon. Tell me about your ex, and I’ll tell you more about this date. It was actually the worst.”

They walk to the couch, sit side by side. The blanket Ryan gave Angelique is neatly folded on the centre table, along with the shirt she gave her. There’s a piece of paper at the top of the pile.

Ryan doesn’t reach for any of it.

Mary watches her stare at the table for about half a minute before waving a hand in her face. “Okay, story time. I gotta know the full details because you look really sad and I keep getting urges to fight her. I need to know if it’s warranted.”

Ryan just rolls her eyes but moves her feet so Mary can shuffle closer, leaning her head on her shoulder. “Right. So. You know how I was locked up for 18 months? Angelique was the reason why.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

“How are you still standing?”

“Well, technically I’m laying down.”

Mary slaps her arm. “Ha. Finish the story!”

Ryan grabs her coffee, taking a sip to gather her thoughts before she begins.

Last night, she’d thought she was alone in this, the fight with Angelique left her reeling, hollow, like she’d lost the only person in the world that knew her. Again.

But now, with sunlight streaming through their window and the pain blunted from a bad nights sleep, everything seems a lot less severe; things with Angelique will probably never get better, or maybe they will. In about a million years. Ryan doesn’t know what’ll happen with them. But, she knows that she’s got people. Maybe there isn’t years of history but that’s not all it’s cracked up to be either. 

She settles into the couch and starts talking.

**Author's Note:**

> literally wrote this as i was watching the latest episode so editing is minimal. 
> 
> tried to capture that distress of loving someone but also kinda hating their existence. so yeah, not exactly a love story. 
> 
> but maybe the show will go there idk. so far, they said they’re going to give the me everything i want and they did. 
> 
> hashtag blessed.


End file.
